Patrick Galbraith: 'The idea that a bar in Norfolk selling vinho verde would make it through even one winter was about as likely as the Madonna herself reappearing by the old water pump'

As happens in rural English villages, there were rumours going around.

The red-brick site on the corner had been a restaurant at one point and it had been a chip shop where my wife had worked as a teenager, but now — according to many — it was going to become a Portuguese wine bar. The sheer ridiculousness of the idea meant the rumour spread fast.

Little Walsingham is a village full of farmers all year round, shooting parties during the season and pilgrims in the fairer months. The idea that a bar selling vinho verde would make it through even one winter was about as likely as the Madonna herself reappearing by the old water pump.

It was late October 2023 when VinedMe opened, which seemed quite mad. Sure, you might sell a couple of glasses to punters on hot summer evenings, but who’s going to go to a new wine bar in north Norfolk in November, when most locals are sitting by their woodburners waiting bitterly for spring?

It took about six months for people to realise that what had seemed unlikely was going better than well. Marta, who is from a cork-growing family in Portugal, and Kevin, a wine-trade veteran, were giving it all they had and it was paying off. From Thursdays through to the weekend, turning up after 7pm was to risk not getting a table.

Within their first year, everyone from young farmers to foresters, land agents to priests, all decided that this wine bar was for them and it had all the buzz and eclecticism of an old-fashioned village pub. I’ve heard people ask Marta and Kevin why north Norfolk and why Walsingham? They say that they like the coast and that they felt that if they created something special, it would come good. Last year, they opened a second site, in Thornham, 15 miles to the west.

Clearly, they have worked hard, but from the outside looking in, the secrets to their success have been making good wine feel accessible, letting people feel they can comfortably wander in after they’ve been out shooting deer or driving a tractor and collaborating with local food businesses. Most weekends, there’s a Norfolk fishmonger selling oysters, Alex, the local pizza guy, firing up his oven or Mrs Temple the cheesemaker talking about her ‘Binham Blue’ and regenerative dairy farming.

Marta and Kevin could have picked any number of English villages and Walsingham feels immensely lucky. In three years, VinedMe has become a cornerstone of an ancient place. A small village can be made by the addition of a thriving friendly business and, equally, it can be quietly devastated by losing one. A village pub or a shop is more than a place for a pint or to buy milk — they’re often the beating heart of a community. In cities and towns, places come and go without much notice, but in villages, closure is keenly felt.

Whether they are the owners or part of the team, the key to shops and pubs that work is good people. In villages, folk who are community spirited and hardworking can really make a place; it only takes a dozen or so to transform village life. I’m struck by that whenever I drive past VinedMe and see Marta, out at the front, drinking her coffee in the faint Norfolk sun.

Village life is changing. How many still have a butcher? How many have lost a primary school in the past decade and how many a pub? Clearly, it’s incumbent on all of us across rural England to support these places. The more that we put into our villages, the more we get back.

It’s easy, during winter, to sit by the fire and not go out, but every pint — or glass of vinho verde — at your local is an investment in your village. Use it or lose it.